


A Dog's Life

by AVegetarianCannibal



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dog adoption, Domestic Fluff, Hannigram - Freeform, Jealous Hannibal, M/M, Prompt Fic, Spanking, the people get spanked not the dog
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:51:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6129697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVegetarianCannibal/pseuds/AVegetarianCannibal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Hannibal and Will settle into their new life after the fall, a new addition makes himself at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Dog for Hannibal

**Author's Note:**

> This began as fic prompts on Tumblr and kind of got away from me.

Will paused outside Hannibal’s bedroom door when he heard talking inside. Was Hannibal on the phone? His tone was quiet, secretive. Barely more than a whisper.

“I don’t think you understand what this means,” Hannibal was saying.

There was a pause where, presumably, Hannibal was waiting for a response from the other party.

“I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified,” Hannibal said, voice breaking at the end.

Will felt a cold knot untie in the pit of his stomach, fraying into icy fingers that grabbed him from inside.

Who was the object of Hannibal’s affection? The young man who delivered their produce from the co-op every other week? That blond, freckle-faced boy barely in his twenties?? They rarely saw anybody else, so who could it be?

Will threw open the door and found Hannibal still in his pajamas, clutching his tablet to his chest.

“Six months we’ve been on the run together,” Will fumed, “and you couldn’t wait for me, so you found someone else?”

“Will, I can explain,” Hannibal said, but Will was already snatching the tablet from him.

“I’ll murder whoever it is,” Will started to say, then stopped when he saw the screen.

“This… this is Petfinder,” he said, staring dumbfounded at the scruffy terrier mix on the page. He remembered his anger and snapped his attention back to Hannibal. “But I heard you saying you were in love with someone! You said you were terrified!”

“The little dog is 14 years old,” Hannibal said. “What if we can’t care properly for him?”

Will took a few moments to process all of this. “You… are… smitten? With a little mutt you found online? And you want us to adopt him? And you’re… terrified that we won’t make a good home for him?”

“We are on the move quite often,” Hannibal said reasonably. “Look at him. Look at his silvered face. Do you think he would be able to handle so much moving from place to place?”

Will laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed some more. Hannibal had mentioned in an offhand sort of way that Will might be able to get a dog at some point, but had been sure to insist it would be a beautiful dog of distinguished lineage. Now here he was, making moon-eyes at this elderly ball of fuzz, and talking to his picture, no less!

“Wait,” Hannibal said, only now getting up from the bed. “You were jealous when you thought I was speaking to a lover–murderously jealous.”

Will remembered that part, too, now, and blushed warmly. “I–I–just–”

“Does this mean you’re ready to have that ‘discussion’ about our relationship?” Hannibal asked. “The one you’ve been putting off because of our injuries and any number of other excuses.”

Will thrust the tablet back into Hannibal’s hands. “Go get that dog,” he said. “And then we’ll talk.”

 


	2. A Dog's Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal's dog has a name, and an attitude.

Despite being roughly 14 years old, the little dog Hannibal had brought home was a pretty spritely thing, acting perhaps half his age. His favorite game was to  dash  back and forth along the sofa, dive under a pillow, wait until Will lifted up one corner of the pillow and then begin his running back and forth again, panting and wild-eyed smiles the whole time.

Hannibal had wanted to name him Encephalitis, but Will had vetoed that idea right quick. They compromised, sort of, by naming him Lito. Everything seemed fine, until about two weeks later, when things suddenly came to a head.

“Lito, I’ve cooked your dinner,” Hannibal called from the kitchen.

Lito merely huffed and remained curled up in Will’s lap in the chair nearest the fire.

“It’s chicken liver and haricots verts,” Hannibal added, practically singing it. “Will says I shouldn’t add too many herbs and spices, but I think this hint of sage should be fine.”

Lito burrowed further into Will’s lap.

“I don’t think he’s hungry,” Will called back.

Hannibal came rushing into the den. “Is he ill? Does he feel feverish? Check his nose, Will.”

Will smoothed his hands over the little dog. “He’s fine,” he said. “He’s probably still full from that tartare you made him for lunch.”

Hannibal fidgeted. He tried not to be obvious about it, but Will could tell.

Will sighed. “Lito, want some dinner?” he asked.

Lito sprang up and sped into the kitchen, tail wagging in a fluffy blur. He had already finished most of his food by the time his humans caught up with him.

“I’m the one who found him,” Hannibal said. “I brought him home, I cook all his meals. Yet he prefers your company. I suppose I can’t compete with your hide-and-seek games.”

Will laughed, but noticed how dead serious Hannibal looked. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

“I stayed up with him all night when he was passing worms,” Hannibal sniffed.

Lito approached Hannibal and rubbed his face on his trouser leg.

“See? He loves you,” Will said.

“He’s merely wiping the gravy from his muzzle,” Hannibal said. “He does that nearly every time.”

Sure enough, there was a smear of drool and chicken liver left behind on the fabric. Lito trotted back into the den with a satisfied air about him.

“He loves you,” Will said again. He reached out and took Hannibal’s hand in his own. “And he’s not the only one, you know.”


	3. A Dog's Point of View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lito the dog has very strong opinions about his new family.

The two humans that had taken him in liked to say the word “Lito” to his face a lot, and, especially in the beginning, it was usually while giving him treats and belly rubs. That was how he came to assume this was his new name, and they seemed pleased when they said the word and he came to them.

Not that he went to them equally. Sometimes he didn’t go to the taller one at all. There was something about him that he just didn’t cotton to. Perhaps it was the fact that this human had the cheekbones of a Siamese cat, and every cat Lito had known was trouble. He used to live with a cat and she would be very sweet to him sometimes, then turn around and steal his bed. He fell for it every time for a very long time. Eventually, he stopped trusting cats altogether. Perhaps this was why he didn’t trust Cat-Face. Lito was positive he would come in from one of his walks someday to find Cat-Face curled up in his fluffy new bed. It was only a matter of time.

The other human, though, was just a dream of fellow. He reminded Lito of a curly-haired Spaniel he’d once known, and so he came to think of this human as Spaniel-Friend.

Spaniel-Friend seemed to like Cat-Face an awful lot, and spent a lot of time petting him–even more time than he spent petting Lito. Spaniel-Friend and Cat-Face also spent a lot of time licking each other’s mouths, and not _once_ did either of them vomit a delicious treat for the other. What was the point of licking someone’s mouth if you weren’t trying to make them vomit food for you?

Lito supposed it could be a sign of submission, as it was with dogs, but that didn’t seem to be the case here. It was probably some confusing plot Cat-Face was putting into motion. Lito reminded himself to make sure Cat-Face didn’t steal Spaniel-Friend’s bed.

* * *

Lito woke from a nap to a terrible commotion. His hearing wasn’t what it used to be, but he could make out odd sounds coming from the humans. Spaniel-Friend was moaning like he was in pain! (So was Cat-Face, but Lito couldn’t bring himself to care much.) After a quick stretch to limber up his old bones, he bounded up the stairs as fast as he could.

He paused at the top. The moans were coming from Spaniel-Friend’s room. Cat-Face had probably tried to steal his bed and a fight had broken out! Good for Spaniel-Friend for sticking up for himself.

Lito nudged open the door, ready to lend a paw in aid to his best friend.

Spaniel-Friend was spanking Cat-Face on the rump. Ha! _That’s what you get for trying to steal his bed._ Cat-Face was shouting and twisting around something awful. Lito rued the fact that he himself had not been brave enough to reclaim his beds from the cat he’d known. But he would make up for that past cowardice now, if he must.

Suddenly, Cat-Face rolled away from Spaniel-Friend. They both made those funny breathy barking sounds that humans did when they found something amusing, but this was not amusing. This was _dire_.

Things only got worse when Cat-Face pinned Spaniel-Friend to the bed and bared his teeth. Even his teeth looked like a cat’s. He inched down Spaniel-Friend’s body, opening his mouth wider…

 _Oh. Oh no._ Cat-Face was going to bite off something very important of Spaniel-Friend’s. Lito had heard it referred to as “red lipstick” in discussions of his own anatomy, but he had no idea what a lipstick was. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure what red was, either. He only knew that it would not do to have it bitten off.

Lito charged all the way into the room and clambered up onto the bed, snarling the whole while. He tackled Cat-Face, shoving against him with all his might.

To Lito’s surprise, Spaniel-Friend was not happy to receive his help. Perhaps he’d made his favorite human feel weak, incapable of taking care of himself. Instead of thanking him, Spaniel-Friend picked him up and put him into Cat-Face’s arms. The indignity! Lito wriggled and grumbled, but he remained trapped where he was.

Cat-Face carried him back downstairs and placed him into his crate, closing the latch behind him. Was there no end to these slights?

Cat-Face rustled around in the kitchen for a few minutes, and then returned with a Kong toy stuffed with peanut butter. And this, Lito had learned, was no regular peanut butter. This was something Cat-Face made in the wondrous kitchen, with fresh peanuts and a bit of molasses and something delightfully smelly that the humans called “fish liver oil.” It was probably part of another plot, if Lito was being honest with himself. But… 

…the peanut butter was just _soooo_ good and creamy and smelly that he couldn’t stop himself licking it up while Cat-Face watched him. Lito grumbled softly. The truce was struck.

_For now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't from a prompt. This was all me. You can't blame anybody but me for this crack. I don't even know what I'm doing with my life.


	4. A Dog's Bravery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lito the dog takes a stand.

Will woke with a smile, as he did most mornings since he and Hannibal had started sharing a bed. He stretched and burrowed further under the covers, hands seeking the warmth of Hannibal’s bare skin.

“You have the look of a man with a plan,” Hannibal said, burrowing right back against him.

“Just this,” Will said. “I thought we might stay in bed today.”

“All day?” Hannibal asked.

Will nodded against Hannibal’s chest. “ _Allllll_ day. You up to it?”

Hannibal laughed, a low throaty sound. “Yes,” he said, “but… no.”

Will pushed back just far enough to look him in the eye. “No? What do you mean no?”

“You’ll have to go into town,” Hannibal said. “There’s nothing to cook for Lito’s breakfast.”

Will pushed further way. “There is high-quality–and very expensive–kibble in the pantry, you know. It’s flown in from Australia. For the price, I’m surprised a koala doesn’t deliver it right to the door in its pouch.”

Hannibal very nearly whined. “You know he prefers an egg white scramble to start the day.”

Will laughed despite himself. He never thought he’d see the day when Hannibal was a bigger sucker for a dog than he was. He rolled out of bed, affording Hannibal a good, long look at what he was missing out on by sending him on an errand. He _especially_ made a show of bending over to pick his pants up off the floor. Alas, Hannibal didn’t bite–literally or figuratively.

“Don’t forget to pick up fresh carrots, too,” Hannibal said. “The purple ones, if they have them. Those are Lito’s favorite.”

*******************

Some time after Will had left, Hannibal got dressed and headed downstairs to take Lito for his walk. The dog was still chilly towards him, but Hannibal decided he could be patient. After all, look how long it had taken for Will to come around.

Lito barely even glanced at him as he trotted out the door and into the woods. Hannibal followed after at a leisurely pace, still blissfully sore from Will’s enthusiastic attentions the night before.

“Lito, don’t go too far!” Hannibal called after him. “Stay where I can see you!”

As if to spite him, Lito tossed a glare over his shoulder before disappearing behind a thick clump of ferns.

A few moments later, Lito growled at something.

Hannibal envisioned Lito getting his jaws around some mangy squirrel, riddled with parasites, not even properly seasoned.

“Lito, I hope you’re not–”

A frantic yelp cut from Lito him off.

Hannibal ran into the woods, all thoughts of leisure forgotten as he barreled towards the sound of his dog’s obvious distress.

When he burst through the ferns and into a clearing, the sight before him chilled his blood. His panic gave way to cool determination. His heartbeat slowed like a metronome’s ticking winding down.

There, in the clearing, a strange man was holding Lito by the throat.

As soon as the man saw him, he dropped Lito and tried to run. He was all wide eyes and sudden acrid scent of terror. “No, no, it’s a misunderstanding,” he said. “I barely even touched him!”

Hannibal grabbed the man by the throat, as the miscreant had done to Lito. Lito whimpered and limped towards Hannibal, favoring his left front paw. There was a spot of blood near his eye, and the lid looked swollen.

“Did you kick my dog?” Hannibal asked, shoving the intruder up against the nearest tree.

“He bit me!” the intruder said, grasping in futility at the hands that held him firm. “I was just minding my own business and he bit my ankle!”

Hannibal peered down the length of the man’s body, saw that he was wearing rugged jeans and boots, as well. “And you felt his geriatric little teeth through all that?”

Without waiting for an answer, Hannibal bumped the intruder’s head hard enough to knock him out, but not hard enough to kill him, in case Will wanted to help him with that later.

Lito whined softly, nudging Hannibal’s foot with his injured paw. When Hannibal looked down at him, the dog was peering at something glossy a few feet away. It was the man’s phone, and the browser was open to Tattlecrime.com.

“What a good boy you are,” Hannibal said, beaming with pride.

Lito opened his mouth, lips loose and wide, the way he did with Will so many times. He huffed softly.

Hannibal considered the little dog for a moment, then asked, “Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?”

Lito gave a happy yip in reply.

****************

When Will walked through the front door, he almost dropped the groceries he was carrying. There was a young man, unconscious and trussed up, lying on the living room floor. His throat was obviously bruised and the back of his head looked bloody.

“Hannibal?” Will called out. “Hannibal! What’s going on!”

Hannibal emerged from the kitchen, cradling Lito in his arms. A patch of fur above Lito’s eye had been shaved, and his flesh now bore two, tidy stitches. His paw had been bandaged, as well.

“I see you’ve met our guest,” Hannibal said.

“You–he–what–” Will was having a hard time deciding which question to ask first.

Hannibal seemed to understand. “He was taking photos for Miss Lounds when Lito found him and bravely engaged him in battle,” he said. “The rude fellow kicked our dog, Will. I believe I reacted appropriately. Also, the photos were automatically uploaded to Tattle Crime’s cloud drive, so we should probably leave here as soon as possible.”

Will sat heavily on the sofa. Or, rather, his legs gave out from under him and the sofa was there to catch him.

“But there is good news,” Hannibal said.

“What could possibly be good about this?” Will asked.

“Well, Lito loves me now,” Hannibal said cheerfully. The dog licked up the side of his face to illustrate the point. “He truly loves me!”


	5. A Message From the Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The saga of Lito Lecter-Graham continues.

On Tuesday just after dawn, Freddie got notification that new pics had been uploaded to the Tattle Crime cloud drive. Joe Meekes been staking out a cabin somewhere in the middle of God-Only-Knows in the Canadian province of She-Couldn't-Remember. He'd said he might have seen Will Graham in town a few days back and decided to follow him. Freddie had considered warning him to stay away from the Murder Husbands, but then reconsidered. Good pics don't come from being overly cautious, after all.

Now here it was, seven in the morning on a rainy Tuesday, and she had dozens of pictures of Hannibal Lecter strolling through the woods in his pajamas. She pursed her lips as she swiped through the pics, already mentally testing out sensational headline ideas for decidedly _un_ -sensational photos. They weren't even fancy pajamas. If she could Photoshop some fraying at the collar, perhaps she could spin a story about Lecter slumming it with Graham. Oh, how the mighty had fallen, like Icarus into a plaid flannel sea of domestic mediocrity.

The last few pics in the set were of a scruffy little terrier: the little dog peeing on a tree, then approaching Joe with teeth bared, and finally one of Joe's foot connecting with the terrier's head. Asshole. She didn't even especially _like_ dogs, but that was definitely an asshole move.

She would call Joe and give him a stern talking-to. Right after coffee.

*******

On Tuesday right after coffee, Freddie called Joe's cell and got his voicemail.

"Was that Lecter's dog you kicked?" she asked. "I hope you got the hell out of there, if so. Not before you got more--and better--pictures, of course. Anyway, don't kick dogs, you asshole. Call me back with an apology. And better pictures--something bloody, if you can manage it."

She poured another cup and drummed her fingers on her desk. Perhaps in the meantime, she could come up with a fluff piece about the dog. If there was one thing the internet loved more than grisly murders, it was a cute animal.

She opened her laptop and typed: MEET HANNIBAL LECTER'S MURDER MUTT

*******

On Wednesday afternoon, new pics came in from Joe Meekes' phone, but it wasn't Joe who sent them.

The first showed Joe splayed out on a garish plaid sofa that looked like one of Lecter's old suits. He was either unconscious or dead; Freddie couldn't tell from the image. Will Graham appeared next to Joe in the next pic, and the dozen or so after that, trussing him up with rope. Probably just unconscious, then. For now.

The little dog popped into a few shots, grabbing the hem of Joe's shirt in his teeth with anger obvious in his hairy canine features. Graham extricated the dog from Joe's shirt and tucked him under his arm. Lecter only appeared in the final two pics: the first to show off the boning knife he was holding, and the second to show he was placing it near Joe's bound hands.

Freddie frowned. Were they not going to kill Joe after all that? Were they really letting him live? And if so, why? Well, her readers didn't need to know everything just yet.

She sighed and prepped two headlines.

TATTLE CRIME PHOTOG FALLS PREY TO MURDER HUSBANDS

MURDER MUTT GOES ON A RAMPAGE

*******

On Wednesday evening, Freddie got an email from Hannibal Lecter himself.

Dear Miss Lounds,

Your nosy photographer should be just cutting through his bonds about now, if he has the intelligence to realize why we left him that knife. He lacked the mental capacity to leave us alone, so I cannot predict his survival with any certainty.

Naturally, I wanted to kill him before we left, but my darling Will persuaded me not to. Not out of any sense of morality, mind you. No, once he'd learned your Mr. Meekes had kicked our beloved dog, he was filled with a most beautiful and murderous rage. But he did point out (and I tend to agree, now) that we lacked the time to put a proper end to him. However, if he or any of your other doltish contractors should cross our path in future, rest assured that we will make time.

Yours truly,

_Hannibal Lecter_

P.S. Lito wishes me to pass along a message. He doesn’t like being called “murder mutt” in your rag publication. He is a proud and majestic terrier, fearsome and brave, and any epithet you call him should reflect that.

P.P.S. Perhaps “precious angel,” as that is what he is.


	6. A Dog's Shopping Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, @iablmeanie, for commissioning the next chapter in Lito the dog's story! What follows is fluff and shopping and Hannigram being smitten with each other and their elderly rescue dog.
> 
> Note: There are shopping links in the text, but they're not associate links or anything like that. I just wanted y'all to be able to see what Hannibal bought the dog. :)

 

 

Will had just started to doze off in the passenger seat with Lito curled up in his lap when Hannibal reached over and shook him awake.

"What is it?" he asked, peering about wildly. "Is there trouble? Cops? What is it?"

"I'm having second thoughts about our plan," Hannibal said, not taking his eyes off the road. It was still hours before dawn and the route they'd chosen offered little in the way of lighting. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

"The plan is fine," Will said. He took one hand off Lito to squeeze Hannibal's knee reassuringly. "We planned the plan ages ago. It's a solid plan."

"That was before Lito came into our lives," Hannibal reminded him. "What if he gets seasick on the boat? What if he falls over and can't swim? Will, we don't even know if he can swim!"

"Dogs can swim," Will said. "They just instinctively start moving their legs like they're walking and it turns into swimming."

Hannibal was quiet for a few minutes, long enough for Will to hope he'd been satisfied by that answer, but his grip on the steering wheel loosened not one bit.

Will sighed. “What is it? C'mon, spit it out.”

“Every single dog can swim?” Hannibal asked. “Every one of them? Guaranteed?”

When Will didn't answer immediately, Hannibal jerked the steering wheel and pulled them to a skidding stop on the side of the road.

Will watched as Hannibal dug into his pocket for his phone. "Oh, Jesus, who are you calling? You're not turning us in, are you? You know they won't let us keep the dog in jail, right?"

"I'm looking up the nearest dog outfitter," Hannibal said, rolling his eyes. "Lito must have a life jacket and other supplies if we are to proceed."

"Are you serious?"

Ignoring him, Hannibal scrolled through the options for a few moments until his face lit up with joy. "There's a Petsmart only 44.7 miles out of our way," he announced. "They open in just under six hours."

Will did not point out that if they didn't have time to kill and artfully arrange a guy, they definitely didn't have time to sit around waiting six hours for a Petsmart to open. Instead, he rubbed Lito's ears and said, "Looks like we're going shopping, buddy!"

Lito lifted his head and gave him a drowsy yawn in response.

**********

Hannibal dozed in the back seat with Lito. At first, he had been reluctant to fall asleep with Lito so close, afraid he would accidentally brush against the dog's stitches and cause him any discomfort. In the end, he'd decided it would be safe as long as Lito slept draped across his belly. To accommodate the pup, Hannibal had had to twist himself into a very uncomfortable-looking position that bordered on sideshow contortion. That he would go to such lengths to make the dog cozy was incredibly endearing to Will. If he hadn't already been ridiculously in love, the sight of the two of them drooling together might have cinched the deal.

Will reached back to rub his knee. "Wake up, you two. The store's opening."

Hannibal sat up and blinked at the mostly deserted parking lot. "Perhaps we should wait for more customers to arrive, so we blend in. What if the employees remember us?"

"We've already put the plan on hold too long," Will said. "And anyway, have you ever worked retail? Just don't make an ass of yourself and nobody will remember you."

Will thought perhaps they should have taken the time to change their appearance a bit--shaved their beards, at least--so they didn't look like Freddie's most recently acquired photos. But he decided to keep that to himself. No point in worrying Hannibal more than already was.

Hannibal carefully deposited Lito into the child seat of a shopping cart and snapped the seat belt around his waist.

"You know that's actually for children," Will said. " _Human_ children. Dogs are allowed to walk around the store"

"Lito likes to have a higher vantage point," Hannibal said. "Don't you, darling boy?" He leaned down to rub noses with their dog.

"He really has warmed up to you," Will said.

"We had an important bonding experience," Hannibal said. "You and I had the Great Red Dragon; Lito and I had Miss Lounds' weaselly photographer."

"Yes, slaying the Dragon _did_ make me want to fall asleep on your tummy," Will agreed, trying hard not to laugh.

"Keep that up," Hannibal said, "and you won't be falling asleep on _any_ part of my body for the foreseeable future."

******

Will took over pushing the cart down the aisles so Hannibal could check his phone for the latest TattleCrime.com update. Hannibal made pleased noises about Freddie scrapping the "Murder Mutt" moniker for Lito in favor of "Attack Terrier." It lacked the catchy alliteration, but was a far nobler option, according to Hannibal.

Will stopped when they got to the rack of life jackets. "That one is cute. It looks like a [clown fish](http://www.petsmart.com/dog/life-jackets-swimsuits/top-paw-clown-fish-life-jacket-zid36-35998/cat-36-catid-100075)."

"Our dog is not going to a costume party," Hannibal sniffed.

"What about this one?" Will asked, holding up a [red jacket](http://www.petsmart.com/dog/life-jackets-swimsuits/kurgo-dog-life-vest-zid36-7619/cat-36-catid-100075). 

"Does it come in any other color?" Hannibal asked.

Will frowned at him. "What's wrong with red? Lito would be handsome in red."

"Lito would be handsome in any color, but you know very well that red looks black at night. What if he falls overboard at night, Will?"

Lito made an exasperated little huffing noise, like a raspy bark, which Hannibal apparently took as the dog's agreement. He gave Will a satisfied look.

"Unbelievable," Will said under his breath.

Hannibal took the cart from him. "Why don't you go next door to the drug store and pick us up a few things we'll need? Lito and I will finish up here."

Will held up his hands in defeat and headed back towards the door.

"Oh!" Hannibal called after him. "Don't forget to buy some Dramamine--just in case he gets seasick."

*********

Half an hour later, they met back at the car with their respective purchases.

"You remembered the Dramamine," Hannibal said with obvious relief, poking through the drugstore shopping bags.

"I also got 12 cans of chili and four bags of Fritos," Will said. "I'm gonna introduce you to an old Southern favorite by the name of Frito pie."

Hannibal's face went absolutely stony as he said, "How delightful."

Will took his turn looking through the Petsmart bags, noting that Hannibal had opted for a [bright yellow life jacket](http://www.petsmart.com/dog/life-jackets-swimsuits/top-paw-neoprene-reflective-life-jacket-zid36-28367/cat-36-catid-100075) for Lito, as well as a matching collar and new reflective leash. He'd also bought an orthopedic bed, four bottles of dog-safe sunscreen, THREE new Kong toys (just in case Lito lost one overboard), a jumbo pack of potty pads, a box of dental treats and a [WiFi dog track](http://www.petsmart.com/supplies-training/id-tags/pod-trackers-gps-wifi-pet-tracker-zid36-5249681/cat-36-catid-100083)er that must have cost hundreds of dollars.

Lito, now perched in his [new bed](http://www.petsmart.com/dog/beds-blankets/top-paw-gel-memory-foam-lounger-pet-bed-zid36-6112/cat-36-catid-100009) in the backseat, looked as pleased as punch. He looked, Will thought, like he knew exactly how tightly he'd gotten Hannibal wrapped around his little paw.

"I indulged in one other item," Hannibal said. "There was an automated kiosk in the store for engraving custom tags. I know the rhinestones are a bit gauche, but I think they match the mischievous glint in his eyes."

He pulled the tag from his pocket and held it up for Will to see. Without a word, because he didn’t quite trust himself to speak just yet, Will took the tag and attached it to Lito's new collar.

"And it probably wasn't wise for anonymity’s sake to customize it quite that way," Hannibal was saying, "but I liked the look of it so--"

Will cut him off with a kiss, and then several more for good measure. "I like the look of it, too," he said, linking his hands behind Hannibal's neck. "I kind of like the look of you, too, when you're being a big dope for our dog."

He glanced over his shoulder at Lito. "You like when Hannibal's a big dope, too, don't you?"

Lito made that raspy little barking sound that was _definitely_ one of agreement. His new tag glinted in the early morning sunlight.

  


 

A mere eight hours late, they hit the road, aiming for the shore, and set off for their next adventure, all of them together.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To commission your own fic and help my elderly pups, please see [this post](http://avegetariancannibal.tumblr.com/post/143331412544/taking-fic-commissions). 


	7. A Dog's Fan Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal makes Lito "internet famous," and the consequences could be dire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, @iablmeanie on Tumblr for commissioning this!

 

 

They rented a house in Christ Church Parish on the island of Barbados with the intent to move on after a few weeks. The house was modest---by Hannibal's standards, anyway---but the land was gorgeous, and the sky could be so blue sometimes it almost hurt Will's eyes to look at it.

Most importantly, Lito really seemed to love it. They had just over two acres all to themselves, with ample lawn to dig in and plenty of trees for him to mark. Hannibal took to bringing a flask of filtered water on their walks every morning and afternoon. "To refill Lito's tank," as he liked to say. The flask was engraved with Lito's name. Will didn't even bother to ask Hannibal where or when he'd gotten it.

Lito had healed up nicely after his encounter with Freddie's photographer goon, but he remained wary of men he didn't know.

Well, perhaps "wary" wasn't quite the word for it. 

Will had seen the little terrier very nearly leap to the postman's throat before Hannibal managed to wrangle him. "He's just protecting us," Hannibal had told the visibly shaken man, before bestowing kisses on Lito's furrowed brow.

  

* * *

 

It was the second week of their stay there that Will noticed Hannibal taking pictures of Lito all around the property. Sometimes Lito was wearing a little silk bow tie, sometimes a fine leather collar. Again, Will didn't ask where any of these came from. He loved that Hannibal loved their dog so dearly, and that the feeling was evidently now mutual.

"We should get a proper camera," Will said one day when his two men came home from their walk. "Better quality than your phone. We could print one of the pictures and frame it."

Hannibal made a little face of displeasure. "I think I'll sketch something if we're going to frame it."

And so he did---gorgeous, detailed pencil-and-charcoal sketches of Lito in classical poses, worthy of any museum in the world.

But the picture-snapping continued, and Hannibal never showed him the end results.

"I'd like to see some of  your pics," Will said one morning over breakfast. Lito sat in the chair between them, eating from his dish of scrambled eggs and yogurt. "You must have taken a hundred by now."

"They're just silly things," Hannibal said, not looking at him.

Now Will was truly suspicious. Why would Hannibal pass up an opportunity to show off any of his art? Will looked at Lito, but the dog gave him no clues. He let it drop, for the moment.

However, the subject came up again the next day when Will arrived home to be greeted at the door by Hannibal, holding a hank of rope.

"Is that for me, or has our gardener pissed you off?" Will asked.

"It's for you," Hannibal said.

"Kinky," Will said, and began unbuttoning his shirt at once.

"Oh, I don't think that will be necessary," Hannibal said.

"Ooh, _really_ kinky," Will purred. "You gonna cut through my clothes while I'm tied up or something?"

Hannibal pursed his lips in thought before answering. "We'll see how it goes."

Will shrugged, but allowed his hands to be tied behind his back.

"Lito, come here!" Hannibal called.

The little dog hopped up from his bed and pranced over, wagging his tail and beaming with every fiber of his tiny being. He let out a raspy bark as if asking what was going on.

Hannibal handed the free end of the rope to Lito, who gamely took it in his teeth and tugged with a ferocious growl.

Will frowned. "Hannibal, this is getting weird--"

"Just hold that pose," Hannibal said, reaching for his phone.

"Are you--are you taking _pictures_ of this?" Will gawped.

"He looks like he's apprehending you," Hannibal said. "It's very charming. Little hero dog, bringing the big bad man to justice! Oh, if I had a little police outfit for him..."

Eventually, Will found himself untied. Before he could question things any further, Hannibal led him up to their bedroom for a vigorous roll in the sheets, and Will promptly forgot the preceding weirdness.

 

* * *

  

A week or so later, Hannibal decided to take Lito on an outing into Bridgeport.

"There's an open-air market I've been wanting to investigate," he said, tucking the dog under his arm. Lito was wearing a black leather collar with a stripe of plaid ribbon down the middle. Will was fairly certain it was Burberry. "I thought our little fellow would enjoy it."

"Want me to come with you guys?" Will asked.

"No, we might shop for a little surprise for you," Hannibal said. He planted a kiss on Will's forehead before heading out the door.

Not even an hour had passed before Will ‘s phone rang.

"SomeonehaskidnappedourLitoandIamgoingtokillwhoeveritis," Hannibal said in a jumbled rush.

"Wait," Will said. "I heard the words kidnapped and Lito. Hannibal, what in the hell is going on?"

He heard Hannibal take a long, steadying breath before speaking again. "You'd best come to the market. I have something to confess before I explain any further.".

 

* * *

 

The whole, sordid tale unfolded like a nightmare.

Hannibal had been snapping the pictures of Lito so he could send them to, of all people, Freddie Lounds. Lito had amassed quite a following in the Tattle Crime forums after his triumphant take-down of the photographer, and fans were ravenous for more of the valiant little terrier.

Will suddenly flashed on the rope scenario from the week before. "Oh, Jesus, Hannibal! I'm pretty sure I had a _visible erection_ in some of those pictures! People are gonna think I'm a huge perv!"

Hannibal ignored that.

"There's even 'fan art' of him in this discussion thread," Hannibal said, showing him on his phone. "Some of it is quite good. Here's a drawing of him with antlers---he's called _Litostag_ in that one."

Will stood in the bustling market and pinched the bridge of his nose. A headache was blossoming, and promising to rival any he'd had during his old encephalitis days.

"I forbade Miss Lounds making any merchandise with his image, of course," Hannibal was saying. "Far too commercial."

"Oh, of course," Will snorted.

Hannibal went on to explain he'd set Lito down for the merest moment while paying for a sack of tomatoes and found he'd vanished.

"I'm positive that miscreant photographer took him," Hannibal said. "He's taking out his revenge on our Lito. I _told_ you we should have killed him."

"We can kill him later," Will reassured him. "But maybe Lito just wandered off on his own."

Hannibal bristled like an offended peacock. "He would never wander away from me."

"Nonetheless, let's just look for him," Will said. "Come on, I'm an expert at finding dogs."

 

* * *

 

Alas, _days_ went by with no sign of Lito.

His humans spent every waking moment of those days scouring the market, questioning locals and tourists, searching the streets nearby. They scarcely returned home to rest.

"What if the kidnapper asks for a ransom?" Hannibal asked, then quickly answered himself. "We'll just have to pay it. I don't care if it's a million dollars."

"Do we even have a million dollars?" Will asked. "Never mind---don't worry. We'll do whatever it takes."

"Including murder?" Hannibal asked.

"Trust me," Will said, "if someone took our dog, murder is _definitely_ on the menu."

 

* * *

 

"I want to put up pictures around town," Hannibal said. "Some 'lost dog' posters."

"We can't," Will said. "Thanks to you making our dog internet-famous, someone might recognize him and us."

"I don't care if anyone recognizes us," Hannibal said. "I'll simply kill them before they can report us to the authorities."

Will sighed, but said nothing. Hannibal was beyond reason. He would slash his way through the island if he had to, and not even pause to collect a few kidneys for pie later.

They were roaming the outskirts of the market for the third time on this particular day. Will was trying to figure out how he should suggest to Hannibal that they just might not see their dog again when he suddenly spotted a bit of brown fluff in the crowd.

Hannibal sensed the change in his demeanor at once and followed his line of sight.

Sure enough, it was Lito, currently riding around in a young woman's purse, wearing a crocheted blue flower at his neck.

Hannibal immediately set off after the mystery woman, but Will grabbed his elbow, pulling him back.

"We can't just confront her in public," he whispered.

Hannibal's eyes flashed, but he nodded his agreement. "We'll follow her home."

 

* * *

 

Their dognapping fiend lived on the second floor of a small apartment building about a mile from the market.

Hannibal hid in the bushes with binoculars like a common pervert, watching her from across the street.

"What's she doing?" Will asked, trying to look as normal as he could while talking to a bush.

"She's trying different outfits on him," Hannibal whispered back.

"Oh, Christ, she's _you_ ," Will snorted. Hannibal pinched his calf through the bushes. "Ow!"

"Lito doesn't look terribly happy about it," Hannibal said. "He misses me---us. She's probably been feeding him _dog_ food. Oh, _Will_ , his coat looks so _dull_."

Will sighed. "We'll wait till nightfall, then we'll go get him---but don't go murdering her right off the bat. Follow my lead."

The bush murmured a series of Lithuanian curses in reply.

 

* * *

 

Will instructed Hannibal to wait down the hall until given the signal to join him, if necessary. Will was still hopeful that he could get through the night without bloodshed.

He knocked twice on her apartment door and put on his happiest, least murdery face.

She answered with Lito clutched to her bosom. "Who are you?" she asked, looking him up and down.

"I'm that dog's rightful owner," Will said cheerfully. He smiled so much it made his assorted facial scars hurt. "I'm afraid my associate lost him in the market, but we're ever so pleased you found--"

Will was dimly aware of Hannibal sweeping past him like a well-dressed tornado, shouting, "GIVE ME BACK MY DOG, YOU MISERABLE THIEF!"

The young woman yelped, Lito yelped, Hannibal thundered and Will sighed in resignation.

 

* * *

 

Her name was Charlie Dempsey, and her father managed a nearby hotel for a big, international chain. Now that things had calmed down a bit, Will could see that she was really still a kid, 17 or 18 years old at the most.

They were all sitting at the kitchen table and having a round of tea served in dainty lavender cups. The tea cozy looked to have been crocheted like the flower around Lito's neck. Hannibal clearly wanted to smash his cup, but managed to calmly sip from it instead.

"How do I know you're telling me the truth?" Charlie asked, still clutching Lito to her chest.

"My dear, why would we lie?" Hannibal asked.

"He's a cute dog," she started to say.

"The cutest," Hannibal corrected her.

"He's the cutest dog," she went on. "Maybe you saw him and just want him for yourself."

Hannibal set down his cup and patted his lap.

Lito struggled in Charlie's embrace, trying desperately to get to Hannibal. He grunted in canine frustration, but Charlie only held him tighter.

"Hand him over!" Hannibal snapped. "He clearly wants to come to me."

"Just show her the pictures," Will said. "But not--not the rope ones, okay?"

Charlie and Hannibal proceeded to spend the next hour going through the portraits of Lito on his phone, icy at first, but working up to coos and giggles by the end.

"These are soooo creative," Charlie said, beaming at Hannibal. "Are you an artist or something? You _gotta_ be an artist."

Hannibal puffed up with pride. "You could say I dabble a bit--"

Will vigorously cleared his throat. Three pairs of eyes turned to him, glaring as if he were an interloper.

Charlie's expression turned sad as she handed Lito over to Hannibal. Their reunion was full of kisses and declarations of what a good boy Lito was and promises of a fresh chicken dinner.

"I'm gonna miss him soooo much," she sniffed, "but I have a few things for him to remember me by."

She disappeared into her bedroom for a few minutes and returned with a handful of tiny dog sweaters.

"Did you make these yourself?" Hannibal asked. He plucked up a red one and rubbed it between his fingers. "This feels like a very fine Merino wool, quite excellent quality."

Now it was her turn to beam with pride. "I know how to crochet _and_ knit," she said. "I have a lot of time to myself with my dad at work so much."

"Surely the climate is too warm for a dog to wear sweaters," Will said.

"We'll go somewhere cold, then," Hannibal said. "He'll be such a well-dressed little man."

"The best dressed," Charlie corrected him.

"The _best_ dressed," Hannibal agreed.

 

* * *

 

That night, the Lecter-Grahams shared their bed with Lito, who was passed out between in a food coma, his belly as round as cantaloupe after two helpings of food. He snored softly and periodically paddled his paws, chasing after who-knew-what in his dreams.

"I'm surprised you didn't want to kill her," Will said, resting his head on Hannibal's shoulder. "You didn't even ask where in the market she found Lito, or what happened to his collar."

Hannibal shrugged. "The most important thing is we have our Lito back," he said. "And we might want to commission her to knit him another sweater---perhaps a fisherman's sweater like one of yours."

"So we're getting back on the boat?" Will asked. "Any ideas for our next destination?"

Hannibal kissed the top of his head and laced their fingers together. "I was thinking about... Argentina."

 

* * *

 

_**Coda** _

 

Charlie smiled as she listened in on their entire conversation, thanks to the small audio transmitter she'd sewn into the crocheted flower. The quality wasn't the best, but she picked up enough through her headphones to hear the men making their travel plans.

She picked up her phone and pondered just who should get the Murder Husbands scoop of the century. _The New York Times_? _The Washington Post_? _The Guardian_ perhaps.

She fingered the Burberry collar she now wore as a choker around her throat before making her decision.

"Hey, Aunt Freddie," she typed out in a text. "Guess who's going on a trip?"

_The End (For Now)_


	8. A Dog in Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not always easy (or safe) to be the Murder Husbands' dog, especially when old threats decide to visit.

 

Under normal circumstances, sailing from Barbados to Tobago would have taken about two days. The weather was good and the wind was in their favor, but all plans for expediency went out the porthole when Will saw Hannibal shirtless and down on all fours in the galley, scrubbing out the oven. Covered in soot and old grease was a surprisingly good look on him, and one that Will was in no hurry to part with once they got back on land.

Besides, Lito seemed to be having a grand time on the old sloop. Unlike Hannibal, he didn't seem to mind the parrot-heavy 80's decor, and he learned to get around the interior in no time flat, all while wearing the blue flower Charlie Dempsey had made for him.

Lito even learned to relieve himself in the shower, which was a vast improvement on their first sailing trip when he'd simply raise his leg wherever the mood struck him. Now, on this second voyage, he would come find one of his humans to rinse his mess down the drain after he was done. "He's such a smart and tidy boy," Hannibal remarked each and every time Lito did this.

So they were out on the water for nearly a week before finally docking in Scarborough.

Almost at once, Will was wary.

" _This_ is where we're staying?" he asked, eyeing the resort that hummed with tourist activity.

"Just for a night or two," Hannibal said. "Only long enough to make plans for the rest of our trip."

The resort was technically not "pet friendly," but Will no longer worried about these kinds of inconveniences. Hannibal always found a way around the rules, always had appropriate (if faked) papers for Lito, and never failed to produce name tags that matched any aliases his humans were using. He seemed to delight in coming up with temporary identities for their dog.

"Come along, Johann," Hannibal said to Lito as they left the lobby.

Will rolled his eyes as subtly as he could and followed them to their private bungalow.

 

* * *

"This isn't _quite_ what the website promised," Hannibal groused when he surveyed the interior of the bungalow.

Truly, it appeared not to have been redecorated since the 1980s, much like their boat, but Lito bounded happy over to one of the blue sofas and hopped right up. He wagged his tail and gave them both open-mouthed smiles.

"Well, as long as _you_ like it," Hannibal said, giving the dog a loving scratch behind the ears.

"Maybe you'll like it more after a hot shower," Will suggested.

"I'd like it more if you joined me," Hannibal teased back, and grabbed him by the waist of his trousers.

"You're like a sailor who's been too long at sea," Will said.

"That's exactly what I am," Hannibal reminded him. "Stuck on a boat for nearly a week."

"Stuck with _me_ , you mean!" Will laughed, but eagerly followed him into the shower.

They'd barely worked up a lather before Will heard Lito whining outside the door.

"Perhaps he needs to avail himself of the shower," Hannibal said.

"I'm not having him pee in the shower while I'm trying to get laid in it," Will said. "I'll take him for a walk as soon as we're done."

But Lito was insistent and his whines soon turned to shrill barking.

"I love our dog," Will said, "but he can be such a cockblocker sometimes!"

Will rinsed himself off---with cold water, much to Hannibal's dismay---and went to find Lito glaring at some unseen foe through the glass French doors.

"Something out there?" Will asked him.

Lito huffed. His tail vibrated like the needle on a Geiger counter.

Will peered through the glass, but couldn't see anything but the beach beyond the lush vegetation surrounding the bungalow.

Hannibal called out to them from the shower. "Why don't you take him to the market and pick up some ingredients for dinner?"

"I'm not like you!" Will called back. "I can't just sneak him in and out of places he's not welcomed!"

Hannibal emerged from the bath a few moments later, dripping wet and pink-skinned, 100% naked and 50% hard. Will did a little whimpering of his own at that.

"Just walk in there like you belong and nobody will question you," Hannibal said. "And pick up plenty of eggs and chicken livers for Lito, if they look fresh enough. Oh, and remember to call him Johann in public!"

 

* * *

Hannibal stayed behind to ready the kitchen while Will got dressed and took Lito for his walk.

As soon as they were outside, Will felt an odd shift in the tension around him, like a subtle change in the weather. Lito felt it, too, and whined in the direction of the French doors at the side of the bungalow.

"Is this what you were fussing about earlier?" Will asked. "What is it?"

Lito pulled on his leash until Will followed him to the bushes. Suddenly the hair went up on Lito's shoulders and he lunged hard enough and fast enough that Will almost lost his grip.

A rangy gray cat burst from the bushes and scaled the drain pipe in a blur, yowling the whole while until he got to the roof.

Will laughed. "Sorry about that!" he called up to the cat.

Lito continued to poke around the greenery, having apparently somehow missed the cat's speedy exit. 

"He's gone now," Will said, but Lito only reluctantly followed him when he tugged on the leash. “Come on, little old man.”

 

* * *

After about a mile's walk, they came to a grocery store by the name of Penny Savers. Will plopped Lito into a cart and partially covered him with his jacket so as to not draw anyone's attention unduly.

Will told himself it was just his anxiety over being caught with a dog inside, but he couldn't help but feel like someone was watching him. He had that same feeling he'd had outside the bungalow, like the air had gotten heavier somehow. Every time he looked around, though, he only saw people focused on doing their own shopping.

Lito was quiet as a little mouse, his muzzle poking out from under the jacket, until they reached the produce department. He whimpered and started shuffling to get free of his cover.

"Cut it out, _Johann_ ," Will whispered, remembering the dog's alias. "Come on, simmer down."

But Lito was insistent, and his whimpers grew more frantic. Suddenly, he vaulted out of the cart and scampered across the floor towards a woman who'd been considering a display of melons.

"Oh shit," Will said under his breath,

He managed to step on the end of Lito's leash just before he could jump up on the woman.

She gave a little gasp and stepped back, her hands flying up to cover her face. Lito kept straining to reach her.

"Sorry about that," Will said. "Don't worry---he can't jump that high!"

She spun away in a swirl of blond hair and tropical-printed scarves before practically sprinting out of the store. 

Lito howled after her until Will scooped him up and deposited him back into the shopping cart.

 

* * *

Will prepared himself for Hannibal's look of disappointment as he walked back towards the bungalow with two boxes of pizza and a bag of convenience-store beers.

In truth, Hannibal looked more horrified. "What happened to groceries?"

"We were kicked out of the store," Will grumbled. He held Lito up for Hannibal to take. " _This_ little guy went nuts and went after some lady."

"Not _viciously_ ," Hannibal gasped, scandalized.

"I don't think so," Will said. "He's just a lady's man, you know that. He probably wanted to lick her knees or something."

Hannibal picked through the offerings Will had brought home, sniffing at the pizzas before apparently deciding the ham and pecan one was good enough to nibble at.

"Before you ask," Will said, "I also bought grilled chicken at the pizza place and Lito's already eaten it."

"Did you make sure it tasted good before giving it to him?" Hannibal asked with all seriousness.

Will didn't roll his eyes, but it was a struggle. "Yes, and I made sure they didn't put too much salt on it."

"Good boy," Hannibal said, and Will wasn't sure if Hannibal was talking to him or the dog.

 

* * *

After dinner and a long-delayed roll in the sheets, Will was just drifting off to sleep when he heard Hannibal making one of his sounds. It was the sound that said, "I'm not trying to get your attention, Will, but I'm not _not_ trying to get it, either."

"What is it?" Will asked, not bothering to open his eyes.

"The wi-fi here is terrible," Hannibal said. "This page is taking forever to load."

Will finally looked up at him and found him poring over his faithful tablet. Reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, giving Will a sudden "naughty librarian" fantasy he filed away for later.

"You making our travel arrangements?"

"I did that while you were out not getting groceries," Hannibal said, pursing his lips. "I just thought I'd check in on the Tattle Crime forums."

Will groaned loud enough to startle Lito, who was snoozing in a chair next to the TV. After a moment, he lowered his head again, but kept one eye on his humans.

"You're not sending them anymore pictures of our dog, are you?"

"You forbade me," Hannibal reminded him. "But I still like to check in to see what his fans are saying about him. He even has his own subforum---ah, here it is now."

With the page finally loaded, Will propped himself up so he could look at the screen. He was loath to admit he was a bit curious to see what Lito's fans had to say.

First, though, he noticed Hannibal's knuckles growing white as he held the tablet. Will felt his body tense ever so slightly beside him.

"What is it?"

"Someone's making threats against Lito," Hannibal said, his voice as cool as it was deathly serious.

Will followed Hannibal's finger to a thread titled I'M COMING FOR YOUR DOG, LECTER.

A few threads beneath that, from earlier in the day, there was another that read LITO LECTER WILL MEET HIS END. From the day before that were three other threads that promised similar fates. The username, ANTI_MUTT88, was the same for every post.

A new thread had popped up just in the time they'd spent combing the forum.

I'M COMING FOR HIM TONIGHT, LECTER

Much to their growing horror, this new thread included pictures...of Will walking Lito through Scarborough just that afternoon.

"We have to get out of here," Hannibal said. " _Now_."

Lito perked up again just then, ears turning like scruffy little satellite dishes toward the living room. He whined as he had earlier, a high-pitched note of agitation.

Before Will could stop him, Lito was scampering off towards the French doors.

" _Lito, no!_ "

Will rolled out of bed and grabbed the pocket knife from his trousers. Everything happened in a blur. He was aware of Hannibal striding past him and scooping Lito up to hold him protectively at his hip. They didn't have to say a word to each other, they simply knew how to work together because it was how they were meant to do it. It was like fighting the Dragon again.

Hannibal threw open the door just as Will gained his feet in a crouch, knife at the ready.

A woman stumbled across the threshold, having apparently been pressing her ear to the glass an instant before.

Will recognized her as soon as he saw the blonde hair and flowing scarves.

" _You!_ "

Hannibal caught her by the wrist. "You know her?"

"I saw her at the store," Will said. "She's the one Lito was going after!"

Lito wriggled and barked his two cents' worth.

The woman flung a piece of paper on the ground at their feet. "I was just leaving you a note, for Christ’s sake!"

Will read it without picking it up. " _You're in danger. Get off the island now_." He scoffed. "Is this your idea of a sick game? Are you the one who's been threatening Lito online?"

She looked horrified. "I would never hurt him! I just wanted to help!"

There was something familiar about her, Will thought. She looked like a slightly older version of someone he'd met before.

"Wait a minute..."

While Hannibal continued to hold her fast, Will reached up and yanked off what he now realized was a very natural-looking wig.

"Charlie Dempsey," Hannibal said. "So, not a teenager, after all?"

"I was wearing fake braces the last time you saw me," she said, the tone in her voice clearly one of pride. "Fake freckles, too. Takes years off! I'm actually twenty-four."

"Why are you following us?" Will asked. "And how?!"

She glanced like a reflex at Lito's collar and bit her lip when she realized she'd given herself away.

Will marched forward to tear the crocheted flower off Lito's collar. With his knife, he swiftly cut it apart to reveal a small transmitter hidden within the stitching.

"Listen," she said, "would this be a good time to point out that both of you are buck naked?"

 

* * *

After Will pulled on boxers and Hannibal a robe, they got the abridged version Charlie's sordid story.

She'd been writing for TattleCrime.com under the name Charles Lounds, because of _course_ she was Freddie's niece. She started to go off on a tangent about how she wished she'd used a different byline, to build a reputation separate from her aunt's, but Will cut her off.

"So, if you're _not_ the one threatening us, who is?"

"Joe Meekes," Charlie said. "The scumbag photographer who kicked Lito when you guys were still in Canada? He blames Lito for ruining his career."

"We should have killed that guy," Will sighed.

"I _told_ you," Hannibal reminded him.

Will made a vague gesture of agreement before turning to Charlie. "How did he follow us? He didn't seem bright enough to pull that off."

She cringed as she made her confession. "He...followed... me. I'm new to this cloak-and-dagger stuff! Until a few months ago, I was writing for a crochet magazine! I didn't cover my tracks like I should have."

"Well, obviously we have to do something about him," Will said. "He's here on the island, he could come after Lito at any moment."

Charlie raised her hand. "Actually, I paid two hookers to show him the time of his life and slip him a sleeping pill afterwards. You should have until morning."

Hannibal gave her a grudging look of admiration. Will didn't bother to hide rolling his eyes this time.

"If you're going to kill me," Charlie said, "could I at least pet Lito one last time?"

"We're not going to kill you," Hannibal said. "And we're not going to kill Mr. Meekes, either."

Will gawped at him. "We're not?"

"If Miss Dempsey should lead Mr. Meekes astray," Hannibal began, "perhaps she could also find a way to let the FBI know they should be following Mr. Meekes if they wish to find us."

"The sighted leading the blind...leading the blind," Charlie said, giving them an exaggerated wink of understanding.

"I'm afraid you'll be blind, as well," Hannibal said, crushing the transmitter beneath his heel.

Charlie made a small wail of despair but accepted the deal. As a consolation, Hannibal allowed her to hold Lito and pepper his brow with kisses until it was time for them all to part ways. Lito seemed quite pleased with the arrangement as well.

 

* * *

Will was happy to be back on their sloop, even as Hannibal bemoaned its horrible decor. He made noises about how it looked like an old backdrop for a Jimmy Buffet video.

"Well, we can't fly to Argentina now," Will reminded him. "Meekes probably knows about those plans if he's been shadowing Charlie."

"So where shall we go now?" Hannibal asked.

"Anywhere," Will said. "We'll just keep an eye out for Charlie's articles. Wherever she says she's going, that's where Meekes and the FBI will look for us."

"And then we'll just go elsewhere," Hannibal said. He gave an exaggerated sigh. "I suppose I'll just have to get used to being stuck out as sea like a lonely sailor."

"Not _that_ lonely," Will said, giving him enough of a shove to push him onto their bed.

Lito, overhearing him from the shower, barked happily in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For @iablmeanie!
> 
> Come find me on Tumblr: http://avegetariancannibal.tumblr.com/


	9. A Dog's Day at the Beach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Hannigram ficlet for @iablmeanie‘s birthday, who wanted Will and Hannibal to kill the asshole photographer in my “A Dog’s Life” series.  I can’t quite get rid of him yet, so I hope this will do in the meantime.

"We should kill Joe Meekes," Will said with no preamble.

Hannibal glanced at him, sitting beside him under the gaudily colored beach umbrella and wearing one of four pairs of pink swim trunks he now owned. Between them, their Lito dozed, snoring with abandon, sprawled on his back with his tongue lolling from the corner of his mouth, soothed by the sound of the waves mere yards before them. Hannibal gave his belly a quick rub, earning him a pleased snort even as Lito continued to sleep.

"We've seen neither hide nor hair of him since we got to Cuba," Hannibal reminded him. "Should we go hunt him down?"

"I don't like the idea that he could show up and ruin what we have," Will said. "I feel like I'm waiting, just... _waiting_."

"Charlie has him busy chasing ghosts in Poland," Hannibal said. "He's not even in our hemisphere."

Will hoisted himself into Hannibal's lap, careful not to disturb Lito.

"He kicked our dog---he _threatened_ our dog," Will said. "Don't you _want_ to kill him?"

"Of course I do," Hannibal said. He circled his arms around Will's waist before swiftly unseating him from his lap and rolling him onto the blanket.

Will yelped with surprise. Lito yelped with surprise.

"Hannibal, what the fuck!"

Hannibal bounced up onto his feet and flicked off his sandals, shouting, "Last one into the water is a rotten ortolan egg!"

He made a mad dash for the aquamarine water, kicking up sand the color of muscovado sugar as he ran. Lito was fast on his heels, but Will was still cursing him from their spot on the beach.

Eventually, Will caught up with them. Lito, who had proved to be quite a strong swimmer, paddled happily in the surf, chasing after shells Hannibal tossed for him.

"I repeat," Will said. " _What the fuck_?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hannibal said, not looking at him even though his pink shorts were clinging to him in obscene ways.

"You're avoiding talking about murder," Will said. "That's---that isn't like you at _all_."

Hannibal said nothing and threw another shell for Lito.

Will gasped softly. "Wait a minute. Hannibal, are you avoiding murder, _period_?"

He shrugged. "I see no reason to change the way things are now."

Will took him by the shoulders and made him look him in the eye.

"Are you worried something will change between us?"

"We haven't killed anyone since Francis Dolarhyde," Hannibal said. "It was an act you thought we shouldn't live with."

Will sighed and plucked Lito up from the water. He held the little dog between them even as Lito grunted and snorted in protest, trying to get back to his swimming.

"I'm not going to try to end us again," Will said. "I wouldn't orphan Lito like that."

Hannibal first kissed Lito's cheek, then Will's. "If you promise, then I suppose we can make plans."

Will grinned at him, bright as the sun on the horizon. "I promise."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Visit me on tumblr! avegetariancannibal.tumblr.com/


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